


Gabby

by mcschnuggles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caregiver!Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Little!Gabriel, Non-Sexual Age Play, Season/Series 13, caregiver!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: After Asmodeus breaks into the bunker, Gabriel does what he must to keep his friends safe. It's not his fault he completely breaks down not a second later.





	1. Chapter 1

            It’s over in a second.

            All at once, Sam feels the pressure disappear from off his chest, hears the screams of dying enemies, and watches as Asmodeus disappear in a puff of black smoke.

            Gabriel stands at the top of the barrier, and for a second, their eyes meet. Gabe looks just how he’s supposed to, near hair, clean face, the very definition of confidence, but in a flash, it all disappears.

            Gabe hits the floor.

            “Gabe!” Sam and Cas immediately move, rushing up the staircase.

            Gabe is curled into a tiny ball, knees to his chest. He glances up at Sam, his eyes big and lost and scared, but he noticeably relaxes at Sam’s presence.

            Cas bristles, wrinkling his nose as he looks over Gabriel’s body.

            “What?”

            “I can’t sense his grace anymore.”

            Sam furrows his brow. How was that possible when Gabe had only just gotten it back? He was better now, right? “Did he use too much grace or something?”

            Cas shakes his head. “I think he just…broke, for lack of a better term.”

            “He stepped up when he needed to.” Sam murmurs, trying to ignore the pit of guilt building in his stomach. Not exactly what he’d been wanting from Gabriel, but he had just saved everyone’s skins.

            That had to be so much for Gabe to bear. How many years was he trapped with Asmodeus? How long had he been taught to cower in fear, to the point where he couldn’t even fight back when he had the power and ability to fight back? A term came to Sam’s mind, one he hadn’t thought of since he took AP Psychology in high school. _Learned helplessness_. How exhausting it had to be to overcome that, even for just a minute. He must’ve been so scared. Sam’s heart aches in sympathy.

            Sam reaches out to touch Gabe’s hair. Gabe acknowledges the person touching him, staring up at Sam with the usual puppy dog eyes, but for once, he doesn’t flinch away.

            “It’s okay, Gabe.” Sam soothes. “You did good.”

            Before he can even realize what happened, Sam finds himself with an archangel clinging to his neck.

            He looks to Cas, who looks equally shocked and confused. So he has no idea what to do either. Great.

            “Well, I’m guessing he’s not going to walk, so…” With a grunt, Sam heaves Gabriel into his arms. “I’m gonna take him to his room.”

            Gabe shakes his head, clinging to Sam’s shirt a little tighter. Sam winces at the feel of jagged, unkempt fingernails digging into his shoulders, but makes no sound.

            “I doubt he wants to be left alone.” Cas says. He watches Gabe, a fierce protectiveness in his eyes.

            Sam nods, though he can guess it’s for reasons entirely different. Maybe he’s stretching here, but he doubts Gabriel wants to even think about his grace or his powers, let alone be forced to look at it decorating every inch of his walls.

            Then again, maybe he doesn’t want to be alone, either.

            Sam squeezes Gabe’s waist.

            “Let’s go to the library, then. We can wait for Dean to come back from there.”


	2. Chapter 2

            Gabe sits perched in the chair beside Sam, watching over his shoulder as Sam sits hunched over a book.

            He catches a glimpse of Michael’s name written in the text and immediately averts his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about Michael—or anything, really. He just wants his head to shut down.

            He looks over at Sam again and wrings his hands. He’s hungering for personal contact, but he’ll take the closeness as well. Sam’s made it clear he wants to hold Gabriel at arm’s length. Gabe only took that hug earlier because he couldn’t take it anymore. The second his grace faded from him, his head swam with anxieties in fears, and all he needed was for someone to treat him gently. He won’t do that again.

            Gabe glances around the room once more, taking stock of the area. He digs his nails into his palms. Asmodeus isn’t here. He can’t be here anymore. He’s dead. It’s as simple as that.

He tries not to make eye contact with Castiel, who’s been watching him strangely since he collapsed. Gabriel remembers watching over fledglings the exact same way. Gabe presses his back further into the chair he’s sitting in, as if he could hide away. He knows he’s weak, but that doesn’t mean he likes to be reminded of it.

Time ticks by, slowly and peacefully.

Gabriel likes the quiet. There’s no noise, no screaming or cursing or killing, just the occasional turn of the page or shift of the seat. It’s perfect.

It’s at least an hour before Dean returns. There’s a flash of light, and suddenly Dean is back in the room. Sam and Cas crowd around him, giving Gabe the chance to lift himself into a crouch, just in case he needs to get away.

            “We need to go back.” Dean says immediately. When he looks to Gabriel, there’s a sense of relief in his eyes. Gabe shrinks back regardless. “Does he have his juice back yet?”

            Suddenly, three pairs of eyes are on him.

            Gabe looks to Sam for help.

            “Um…” Sam shifts. “It may be a while, Dean.”

            “A while? What do you mean ‘a while’?”

            Sam glances back at Gabe one final time. There’s clear uncertainty written across his face, a hesitance to speak. Gabriel can tell immediately. He’s debating on taking Gabe out of the room or not. He’s not sure if Dean will blow up or not. Gabe’s grace curls in on itself at the mere thought of being harvested.

            Finally, Cas acts. He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, sparing one last glance at Gabriel before leading him into the hallway.

            They speak quietly, but eventually, their voices drift into the library.

            “What do you mean he broke?” Dean.

            “I mean that he just broke, Dean.” Sam. “He snapped out of it long enough to gank Asmodeus, but he just fell apart immediately after.”

            “His grace has retreated in on itself.” Cas. “There’s nothing we can do for the moment.”

            Dean sighs, irritation bristling in his voice. Gabe tries not to hear Asmodeus. “Well, we still have that vial of grace.”

            “Um…” Sam trails off.

            “What?”

            “We gave it to Gabriel. To help him recover.”

            “Well, isn’t that just perfect!” Dean booms. His voice echoes, bouncing harshly off the walls.

            Gabriel doesn’t hear the rest. His vision goes black and he scrambles for what little shelter he can find in his cage. The main thing is making himself look as tiny as possible. If he huddles, if he looks pathetic enough, Asmodeus will at least chuckle and croon to him. It’s better than the crazed raving he does when he’s angry.

            He can feel the world shifting around him. Suddenly the bunker is a cell. There’s dirt and blood on his face. He can feel his mouth binding shut, can feel that little control he has slipping, but he forces himself to remain in the present and shoves his fingers into his mouth.

            The pressure of something between his lips stabilizes him, at least a little. He clings to the feeling, knowing everything else will fade away if he doesn’t.

            “Let’s just give him time.” Sam says. His voice is low and deep and quiet. That’s when Gabe realizes there are three sets of legs in front of the table he’s hiding under.

            With a strangled whimper, Gabe scoots back a little more, only for his back to hit something solid. He sucks on his fingers, giving his mouth something to do while providing a constant reminder that his mouth isn’t sewn shut anymore. It’s all he can do to keep himself from screaming.

            Foreign grace brushes against him. Well, not foreign. It’s obviously Castiel’s, but perhaps the feeling of any grace at all is enough to inspire a feeling of fear within him.

            Grace means nothing but pain. It means a brief moment of power, of relief from pain, only to be taken away seconds later. It means more pain, more suffering, more being scared and alone punctuated with a brief reminder that things might be okay, but they won’t.

            After a moment, Castiel’s grace pulls away, prompting Gabe to uncurl, at least a little.

            Sam quietly picks up the fallen chair, which Gabriel now realizes might have been what alerted them. He doesn’t even remember knocking it over.

            Sam crouches. Upon seeing Gabe, his face immediately falls.

            “Oh, Gabe,” he murmurs.

            Gabriel doesn’t flinch or resist as Sam reaches over to touch his cheek. Sam’s hands are warm and soft and gentle and nice, so Gabe welcomes the touch.

            He only realizes why Sam’s so upset when Sam’s fingers come back wet with fresh blood.


	3. Chapter 3

            They decided on a couple hours of quiet time before trying to remove Gabe from under the table.

            Sam sits on the floor, because Gabriel seems calmed by having Sam in his eyeline. Cas stands behind him, never once taking his eyes off Gabriel, while Dean sits in the nearest chair.

            It was only a few seconds after his blowup that Dean realized just what they were working with, and maybe he knows something Sam doesn’t, but he’s acting a lot gentler in front of Gabe. His voice rarely goes above a whisper.

            With a heightened feeling of helplessness, Sam looks over to Gabe again.

            He sits with his thumb in his mouth, his fingers curled around his nose. His face is stained with blood, and Sam winces at that. How did that even happen? Was that the angel mojo version of a flashback?

            Sam starts when he realizes Gabriel is watching him back, but he tries to recover quickly and offer a smile. Gabe continues to watch him, no recognition sparking in his eyes.

            Cas shifts behind Sam. “We really need to clean his face.”

            Gabriel then looks to Cas. There’s no moment of fear or uncertainty for Gabe when he hears that. Then again, maybe he’s not processing words so much as simply picking up their tones and reacting accordingly.

            Still, Sam’s back is starting to hurt. Sam slides in a little closer, relieved to see that Gabe doesn’t seem remotely bothered by it.

            “Hey, Gabe.” Sam says, his voice even quieter than before. “Would you be okay with getting your face washed up and maybe going to bed? I can carry you again.” He throws that last comment in at the last second, after remembering how willingly Gabe clung to him earlier. He reaches out for Gabe, and while he doesn’t flinch, Sam stops cold before he does. “Are you okay with me touching you?” Sam keeps his arms out.

            Gabriel lurches forward but pulls back at the last second, looking up at Sam with the same wide, scared eyes.

            Sam nods, trying to look encouraging without looking overeager. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on.”

            He can feel Dean and Cas watching him, but he tries not to think about that.

            After a long, tense moment, Gabe shuffles into the space in front of Sam. His eyes are still fearful, but he seems compliant. Sam carefully and deliberately closes his embrace around Gabriel and lifts him.

            Sam tries to ignore the way his back protests and takes Gabriel into the nearest bathroom. Dean and Cas mutter a quiet conversation as he leaves.

            Sam does the best he can without giving Gabe a bath. He sets Gabe on the edge of the sink and runs a washcloth over Gabe’s face and neck, careful to be as gentle as possible.

            Gabriel flinches every time Sam touches the dark red ring around his mouth. Sam sees the way his body tenses, and his jaw locks in sympathy. He hates making Gabe so visibly uncomfortable and scared, but the dried blood on his face can’t be comfortable, and Sam knows Gabe would feel so much better cleaned up a little bit.

            Sam turns back to the sink, running the rag under warm water until the water stops washing out in shades of red and pink. He makes sure the rag is pleasantly warm this time.

            Gabe leans into the touch, never taking his eyes off Sam. It was a little strange at first, to always have a pair of puppy dog eyes staring up at you, but he tries his best to offer a kind smile each and every time.

            The hair is what really gets him.

            Blood is tangled into the strands, dried in patches over his scalp and mixed with all sorts of dirt and dust. It would be so much easier to get Gabe under a shower, or even for him to let Sam wash his hair in the sink.

            Sam bites his lip, trying to keep thoughts like that out of his head. It isn’t Gabe’s fault that he’s terrified of everything. He wouldn’t be like this if he could help it.

            Sam turns to rinse the washcloth out again when he comes face to face with Castiel, someone who most certainly wasn’t there a second ago.

            “Cas.” Sam places a hand on his chest in an attempt to soothe his pounding heart. “Hey.”

            “How is Gabriel?”

            “Clean, at least.” Sam glances back. Gabe’s dropped his head, not looking at either of them.

            Sam can feel a shift in the air, something off that he can only guess is Cas reaching out with his grace. He’s still not completely sure how grace interacts yet, but he does know that grace can act like an extra sense almost.

            Gabriel whimpers in protest, trying to shrink backwards. Sam braces his hands against Gabe’s hip and shoulder, careful to keep him from scooting over the edge.

            Gabe glances up at him with those big, scared eyes.

            “You’re alright.” Sam assures him, giving an encouraging nod.

            “He’s very hesitant to reach out with his grace.” Cas says.

            Sam catches Gabriel’s eye. Gabe almost immediately drops his gaze, giving a telling look to his thumb.

            “Here.” Sam says. He wets the washcloth once more before running it over Gabe’s fingers. He’s sure germs aren’t a huge concern for an archangel, but Gabe seems so hesitant and scared, especially now that he isn’t hiding under a table. Maybe that kind of unspoken “okay” will help him? Sam doesn’t understand why he wants to suck his thumb so much, but he’ll let whatever slide if it’ll help Gabe feel a little more at ease.

            After a long moment of contemplation, Gabriel slips his thumb back into his mouth. Sam notices the way the tension in his shoulders disappears, just a little.

            Sam pats his shoulder before searching for a comb.

            Cas lifts an eyebrow, a spark of realization crossing his face.

            “Something up?” Sam asks. There’s something off about the way Cas has been acting, and Sam isn’t sure how afraid he should be of that.

            “He’s behaving like a fledgling.” Cas mutters.

            “So like a baby angel?” Were angels babies? Sam always assumed they were just poofed into existence as full-fledged entities.

            “Somewhat.” Cas responds, but he doesn’t say anything beyond that. “It’s ingrained in angels to look after their young. No wonder I’ve been so drawn to him. May I?”

            “Huh?” Sam follows Cas’ line of sight to the comb in his hand. “Sure.” He hands it over and steps aside, but before he can get too far away, Gabe catches his sleeve, effectively holding him in place. Sam pretends not to see how white Gabe’s knuckles are from holding on so tight.

            Sam places his hand over Gabe’s, trying his best to give Gabe a sweet smile. After a second, Gabriel lowers his eyes.

            Cas croons, his voice low as he murmurs in Enochian. At least, that’s what Sam thinks it is, because it sounds like nothing else he’s ever heard and the mere sound of it starts to make his vision go a little blurry. The sound of it makes Gabe go tense, but Cas presses his thumb to Gabe’s forehead and he all but goes silent.

            “What did you do?” Sam asks. He absently runs his thumb over the back of Gabe’s hand.

            “It’s how most angels heal.” Cas explains. “It’s a metaphorical promise, that you’ll do everything you can to protect them. The gesture can be quite soothing. He did the same for me when I was a fledgling.”

            Gabriel was an archangel, one of the first and oldest angels out there. Did he ever get to be a fledgling? Was there ever anyone there to take care of him? Even if there was, there’s no way Gabriel could believe in them now. Not after he’d been sold out. Not after he’d been abandoned.

            Cas gently combs through Gabriel’s hair.

            Gabe seems to adore quiet time, Sam notices, because the longer the silence goes on, the more he relaxes, until it’s clear that he’s lapping up all the extra attention. He still doesn’t smile, or look anything other than terrified, but if Sam stops rubbing his thumb over the back of Gabe’s hand for long enough, it’s inevitable that he’ll get a pair of puppy dog eyes looking up at him, asking “why did you stop?”

            “I thought angels didn’t need sleep.” Sam murmurs. Gabriel’s eyes keep drifting shut, so Sam has one hand brace on Gabe’s shoulder, the other ready to catch him when he inevitably lurches forward.

            Cas glances down, a ghost of a smile coming to his face. “That might just be his vessel trying to recover.” Cas replies. “I’ve also known Gabriel to be fonder of every aspect of humanity than most angels.” He sets the comb aside, instead opting to run his fingers through Gabriel’s hair to put it in place. “He’s always been fond of having his hair brushed.”

            Gabe’s chin dips into his chest.

            “You think he’ll be okay?” Sam asks.

            “I don’t know.” Cas answers after a pause.

            The silence falls heavily between them. Sam has to admit that he’s still petrified Gabe will have another freakout, that he’ll be crossing some sort of line sooner or later. He just wants Gabe to be okay, but he’s so scared of hurting Gabe when all he wants to do scoop Gabe into a hug and never let go.

            God, he wishes things could be okay.

            “I’ll take him to his room.” Sam says. He lifts Gabe into his arms, and the sudden movement causes Gabriel to stir. He lets out a tiny hum as he cuddles into Sam’s warmth.

            Sam tries to not let himself be won over. Surely Gabe would like some space and time alone, right? After all, when he was scared, he tried to get away from people.

            “Sam, I’d advise against that.” Cas replies. “He seemed unwilling to go there earlier. I’m sure exposing him to that much Enochian won’t do him any good.”

            “But where else would I put him?” Sure, they had tons of other rooms in the bunker, but he didn’t like the idea of Gabe being left unattended for so long.

            Cas’ voice is leagues gentler. “Fledglings appreciate a certain closeness with caretakers.”

            “I…” Sam trails off. Yes, his bed is big enough for two, but he’s not sure how Gabriel would react to waking up with someone so close into his personal space. As much as Sam hated to admit it out loud, he was a major cuddler when he was asleep.

            “I’m more than willing to watch over him for the night, but he seems particularly attached to you.” Cas shrugs. “It’s your decision.”

            Sam casts another glance down at the archangel in his arms. His cheeks are still slightly pink from being scrubbed down, his hair slightly damp. His clothes are still filthy, and while Sam wants to change that, it’s a line he can’t bring himself to cross.

            Gabe still has his thumb in his mouth, and his other hand is knotted in Sam’s flannel shirt. He looks so helpless, especially when he’s sleeping.

            After a moment, Sam sighs. He wants what’s best for Gabe, simple as that.

            He nods. “I’ll do it. He can sleep in my room.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is so short. I'm really starting to run out of steam with this story...

            Sam jolts awake to the sound of a scream.

            The first thing he can think of is Asmodeus. Someway, somehow, he cheated death and now he’s back, because nothing else could make Gabriel scream so loudly. He reaches for the knife under his pillow, but all he finds is Gabe curled up in his nest, thrashing desperately against nothing.

            Apparently, nests are a common thing with angels, so while Gabriel snoozed, Sam, Dean, and Cas gathered the softest blankets, towels, and clean clothes they could find to build him one. Gabriel almost immediately latched onto one of Sam’s flannel shirts, which is now nestled in the crook of his elbow.

            Cas sits beside the nest, his trench coat draped over Gabriel’s shoulders. Sam furrows his brow. Had Cas been sitting there all night?

            “Cas?” Sam sits up, putting the knife away. He doesn’t want to scare Gabriel. “What’s going on?”

            “I believe he’s having a nightmare.” Cas’s voice is gruff, his face pinched with sympathy. His eyes never move from Gabe’s thrashing form, even as Sam crouches beside him.

            The nest is pushed away into the corner, since Gabe has made it clear he wants no one coming near the back of his neck, so Sam can’t help but feel like he and Cas are kind of boxing the poor guy in.

            Sam can only sit there, feeling more helpless by the second. He doesn’t want to touch Gabriel if it’ll only freak him out more, but he doesn’t want Gabe to continue suffering either. And Gabe seemed to respond well to his touch before…

            Sam ignores the way Cas’s eyes flash to him when he reaches out to stroke Gabe’s hair. Team Free Will be damned, he’s pretty sure Cas would rip his arm off if he even thought about hurting Gabriel right now. Thank the responsibility-shirking absentee Lord that Gabe instead curls into the touch, notably soothed.

            It’s the biggest relief when Gabe’s eyes finally open.

            He blinks heavily, his lashes fluttering like he wants to go back to sleep. His eyes stray from Sam to Cas and back and forth again.

            Despite his instincts telling him to back up and give Gabe space, Sam continues running his hand through Gabe’s hair.

            It works. After a long moment, Gabe gives one final glance around the room and snuggles back into his nest. Silently, Cas tugs his trench coat back up over Gabe’s shoulders, and while Gabe is clearly fighting to stay awake, his forces his eyes open one last time.

            Cas shushes him before he can say anything, and with one last glance at Sam, Gabe drifts off.

            Sam can’t bring himself to move his hand from Gabe’s hair, even when it’s clear Gabe’s fast asleep. He glances over at Cas, and they share a small look. While it’s relieving to know that Cas is just as unsure as he is, it’s also an entirely new brand of terrifying for him to feel so out of his depth.

            Both of them remain rooted where they are until Gabe wakes up three hours later.


	5. Chapter 5

            Sam looks especially grim that morning.

            Gabe isn’t sure why, but the possibilities have him dreading the worst. It makes him glad he has Sam nearby.

            Sam is safety. Comfort. Warmth. He took the extra time to take out Gabe’s stitches even when Gabe screamed and thrashed and fought, and now he’s going out of his way to be extra kind and gentle.

            Sam carries him into the kitchen and sets him on a chair, where Castiel and Sam sit on either side of him. Gabe only has a moment to wonder why before Dean enters, pancake batter in hand.

            They make eye contact, and Dean looks at him almost like he’s expecting Gabe to say something. But Gabe doesn’t. He doesn’t like to speak; the words are too hard to string together in his head. He wishes he had some excuse not to speak, and automatically glances down at his thumb.

            He pushes the thought away almost immediately, but quickly reconsiders. He doesn’t want to be spoken to, doesn’t want to have to deal with the noise, even if it is a sign of weakness.

            But Sam didn’t seem to mind before…

            Gabe slips his thumb into his mouth.

            When Dean comes back into the kitchen, he notices Gabe, but he doesn’t say anything about it. His brows are furrowed, like he’s deep in thought, but somehow, his face gets a little softer.

            Sam leans down, so he and Gabe are on the same eye level. Gabe averts his gaze to the ground, not saying anything, because it’s not so much about eye contact as it is about Sam making himself look as non-threatening as possible. Gabe appreciates it, because the last thing he needs is someone towering over him.

            “You want something?” Sam asks. “I can make you some pancakes, maybe with some chocolate chips, if you want?”

            It’s been so long since he’s had something sweet, but he doesn’t know if he can eat anything. Plus, he doesn’t want to take his thumb out of his mouth. It’s a reminder, concrete proof that he isn’t with Asmodeus anymore. His mouth isn’t sewn shut. He’s…safe.

            After a moment of silence, he shakes his head.

            Sam offers him a gentle smile. “Okay.” His hand twitches, like he wants to move and stroke Gabriel’s hair, but he restrains himself and jerks his hand back at the last moment.

            Gabe flinches regardless. It’s instinctive at this point, and Gabe can’t stop the guilt that brews in the pit of his stomach, especially after the look of hurt that crosses Sam’s face. It’s not like he wants to flinch, but he’s so confused and scared and he’d just said no to Sam so he felt a little cornered too. Asmodeus hated it when he tried to protest.

            Sam goes to grab himself a plate, and when he comes back, he scoots his chair just a little bit further away from Gabe. Gabe doesn’t know how to feel about that.

            Gabe dares a glance at Castiel, who’s been watching him intensely since last night. He hates that look, knows what it means, but also knows it’s exactly what he needs. As much as he wants it back, the sarcastic, cheeky archangel in him is gone, and he probably won’t be coming back any time soon. If he saw an angel in the same state, he’d also be inclined to treat them like a fledgling.

            Cas’s grace keeps reaching out to him, holding him, and it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s sure it’s only a matter of time before his tenseness eventually makes Cas back off.

            He wishes he could just accept the help being given to him. He really wishes it were that easy, but any time he so much as relaxes, his brain screams at him that he’s making a huge mistake. His heart starts pounding and the room feels too small. Even though Sam’s always there, he can’t help but feel terrified.

            Gabe glances up again to realize he’s been chewing on his thumb. He needs something else to think about, something that doesn’t twist his tummy into knots.

            Dean’s been really quiet since he came back.

            Then again, everyone’s been really quiet, but the last person he’d expect that from is Dean. He keeps his eyes on the table, watching Dean from his periphery.

            The noise around him fades into a soothing pattern. The scratching of forks against plates. Shuffling of feet.

            He loves the silence so much, the calm and quiet presence of others. He thinks he’d like things to stay like this for as long as possible. In the back of his mind, he’s sure it won’t last long, but he likes to hope it might.

            Someone scratches his scalp, and the action is so gentle that Gabe instinctively lets out a noise halfway between a pigeon’s coo and a cat’s purr.

            “Is he okay?” Dean’s voice hangs over him. He must’ve gotten up to collect the dishes.

            “It’s the sound fledglings make when they feel safe.” Cas explains. He sounds oddly relieved. Gabe keeps his head down, ignoring the three pairs of eyes suddenly watching him.

            “What did you do?” Sam asks.

            “I just…” Gabe can feel Dean awkwardly reaching for the back of his head, and he forces himself not to tense up. It’s hard when so many eyes are on him, but he manages.

            Dean scratches at the back of his head, but this time, he’s able to bite back the sound climbing up his throat. He feels Cas’s grace brush up against him, checking for fear or uncertainty, but can’t find the will to fight against it.

            He feels the three of them sharing a look over his head.

            “I’ll just…” Dean trails off. “Get to work in the library.”

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
